Sunday, December 23, 2007

concerning motive

I just considered what's my motive for writing on this page. Is it to vent, some form of therapy, entertainment, or is it ego-centric? Honestly I'd say it's a little of all that was just listed. I love telling stories for people that want to hear them. I need to unload all those pent up frustrations without hurting others. The thoughts that run through my head aren't meant to be expressed in public, so this is a great anonymous spot.

At times my heart and soul feels like a huge deserted wasteland, while my mind is just a polluted lake of disgusting thoughts. At other times, my mind is void of logic, and my feelings can overwhelm.

So is there a particular motive, probably not. But I do love to write words like "Fuckhead", Butt snorkeler, and spooge guzzler.

I guess my motive is having the ability to put in typed words the "diarrhea of the jaw" I suffer from.

Have a Merry X-mas.

Friday, December 21, 2007

I'm hungry

I get home and there's no fucking food. When I go to work food falls from the heavens it seems. There's always a pot luck, or a luncheon, or bake off going on. That job is full of the good jiggly roll maker stuff. But I get home and there isn't a damn thing to eat on. My dear wife is sitting on her ass watching TV wondering why spousal abuse is rampant in the world. Because husbands are starving!!! Just make me a fucking sandwich, I'd be happy with that. Oprah and Dr Phil are not that fucking important, but if you want to be on the programs just keep avoiding taking care of me... then she'll end up on one of those shows or Jerry Springer. Fuck it. Whatever. I'm gonna eat some ramen.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

A friend lost

I was a sophomore in high school and my best friend was Angel. Ghetto as all hell, he was orphaned when he was born, lived in foster care, and then got adopted by a couple that divorced two years later. I would never claim that he was a good influence, but he wasn't a bad person either.

We did what teenagers do. We experimented with weed and liquor. We tried to get in bed with any girl that would give us a shot. We stayed up late on weekends playing video games and talking shit. We told each other everything, just like brothers would do. To this day, the only other person that's ever heard everything I think about is my brother.

It was winter time when I lost my friend. It was freezing cold. The night before we had been at a mutual friends house watching movies on HBO and drinking 40's. He had been telling me about some drama at his house with his adopted father and his girlfriend. Shit like this was always going on. We walked back to his spot in the dead of night. We could see our breath under the street lights as we shivered, walked, and laughed. He talked about how one day we'd both go out of state to Oklahoma to see the town he was born in, and then maybe he'd claim some land on the reservation as well. Just as he broke away to walk up to the house he lived in, he told me that he'd never have a friend like me again. I told him, "yeah, same to you. You little bitch." We laughed again, and then he said, "No, really, your the best friend I've ever had." And he went inside.

I don't know what happened with him for the next 24 hours. I had been ignoring everybody as I pursued a female I had a thing for. At about 10 p.m. I answered the phone and it was his girlfriend. She was crying. All I remember her saying over and over was, "he's dead".

Angel had hung himself that night on a middle school basketball court. For weeks, months, and probably even longer, I blamed myself for what happened. If I had just answered the phone and not ignored him, he'd still be alive. It took a lot of tears before I came to terms with it. I've lost lots of friends since, but none have had the impact of Angel. The factors behind it just seem to linger.

I'm almost 30 now, but during the winter time, I sometimes walk down the streets in the dead of night, when it's very cold and I can see my breath beneath the street lights, and I listen for him. I try to hear those laughs that we had, sometimes I even ask "why?", but mostly, I just miss my friend.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Direct corrolation between TV and life.. bullshit

So many times in the news I hear that violent and sexual programming is causing society to act out in the same ways that are being shown because of the influence that television has on us. BULLSHIT! And here's my reasoning. On a daily basis I talk to people over the phone that can not conjugate a verb, use any kind of correct grammer, or form what would seem to be a simple sentence. An example of this was on Friday when a man from Indiana said to me, "What be yo' name? Who is I talkin at? Dis ain't bein' no insurance I ever heard." Oh fuck that. I have a lot of homeboys that are hood and ghetto as fuck, but at least I can understand what's being said. I use slang just like any other young urban latino, but as I just said, I can be understood. Nothing urks the living hell out of me more than non-talking assholes that sound like their mouth is full of marbles.

Now for my logical corrolation between television and society.

If our culture is in a constant state of copying what is seen on TV, why in the world do we have retards that still talk like the moron listed above? Since the 1950's the American people have had steady access to television, and yet, to this day, people can't seem to talk. I would guess (since I don't have numbers to back this part of my theory) that about 98% of television uses understandable language. Even shows that label themselves as ethnic, urban, and young can be understood by the average middle aged white dude. Unless you are planting yourself in front of a TV for weeks at a time watching a never ending marathon of "Roots" then their is no reason to speak that way. If TV really had the impact on America that people like to think it does, then we should have a nation of individuals that can readily speak to one another with thought out dialogue.

The instances where some dumb ass goes out and attempts to kill people the same way he saw in a movie, or the kid that does a face plant off of the roof of his house imitating "Jackass", are not the norm, but the exception to the rule. Stop judging television and take it for what it actually is, a medium for entertainment, and to watch the news for information. That's all it is.

Stupid people will still speak like in-bred crack babies, and really stupid ones will mimic what is seen on the small screen. If TV influenced us like we believe it does... well... we'd all be pretty well spoken murderers that dive through plate glass windows while wielding two pistols. Or something like that.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

These are a few of the horrible things

I had an experience the other night at a friends house that I won't soon forget. Amazingly it ranks on a growing list of simple non-life threatening experiences that I actually wish I could forget about.

We were the last ones at our friends house for a party and we started talking about different things we had seen that were just fucked up.

I told them about a porn movie my brother had, which he had me watch a certain scene. The scene was a "female" midget getting banged out by some 18 y/o Puerto Rican kid. I say female in quotes because she looked like a post-op tranny, and you could even see the look of disgust on the kids face as he fucked her. It grossed me out. When I asked my brother why he had me watch this, his simple answer was that if it was burned into his mind, then I should suffer also.

Then I talked about a second film clip. It was when a troop of mine thought that I'd have a laugh watching a midget film clip that he had edited on his computer. It was Bridget "the midget" Powerz getting banged by some dude with a greasy 70's haircut and pedophile 'stache. About 10 seconds in my buddy had replaced the original sound on the movie with the Tenacious D song "fucking her gently". I thought it was pretty funny. Then at the end it took a turn for the worse. The Tenacious D song ended and the original sound came back in. 70's dude pulls out and nuts on Bridgets face.... leans over..... and whispers, "Jesus will forgive you." WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

And the one I know is fucked up but it didn't really bother me at all, was a message I was sent by my buddy that was stationed in Korea. He sent me a video of a quadrapalegic amputee (no arms or legs) getting fucked silly.

Not to be upstaged at his house, our friend asks if we've ever seen "The Cup Chicks". I said no, and he insisted we watch this, because it was so fucked up. I figured, "what the hell, at least I know it's gonna be fucked up, so why not". So we all go upstairs to the computer and he starts to play it. Two chicks stripping topless and sucking each others titties. I'm thinking this isn't that bad, then it happens. Cut Scene. Straight to one girls asshole --- and the other one is holding a cup. *Gag* She shits in the cup, and fills it. Then it gets even worse. The camera pans backwards and they both start eating it like a fucking snow cone. *Gag, cough, vomit, Gag* My wife starts gagging, which makes her friend start gagging, which makes my wife run outside and vomit. And then I couldn't stop laughing. For 45 minutes straight I laughed, and gagged, and laughed some more.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Single Out on Myspace

Wow! That's all I could say this afternoon when I logged on to my MySpace account and found a message from the site management telling me that they had removed some of my pictures. It stated that they were not in keeping with MySpace rules or standards. Then I reviewed my pictures wondering what pics they could be.

They were shots of my brothers wounds that I have posted here on this blog and on my photoblog site. You all have probably seen them, the really bad gashes across his belly and legs. But I edited them to only show the wound itself, no extra skin in the picture if you get my meaning.

What I don't understand is what is truly offensive about the pics. As I peruse the MySpace universe I see picture after picture of sexually suggestive teenage girl, goth kids talking about cutting themselves, explicit music, and other such things.

So what's so bad about my pictures? The world may never know.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Porn star getting canned for racial obscenity?

Jennica St. Foxx is on the chopping block because she said, quote "Stuff my filthy cunt with your huge nigger cock". In-fucking-credible. This goofy white bitch is going to lose her cock gargling career for yelling this dumb shit while getting banged out.

And just for a kicker, the company that makes her films is called "Elegant Entertainment". Seriously.

People are making a huge deal out of this, saying that it's horribly demeaning, and that she should be boycotted. Wow, where are our morals going?

So what we as society are saying is that you can tell someone to treat you like a whore, take on 10 dudes at a time, swallow cum, get recorded while a 12 inch cock is rammed in you and turning your pussy inside out, then that's alright ----- but if you yell a racial obscenity while this is happening, then goddammit, it's just not appropriate for our moral standards here in this country. Seriously, let's look at the actual problem. SHE GETS FUCKED IN THE ASS FOR A LIVING!!! But the concern isn't the fact that millions of people around the world (including most of us) watch her getting fucked, but the fact she yelled foul shit while it happened. I'm confused. There are plenty of smut movies that play off of shit like that. How many of us have watched some shit called "Border Jumpin Bitches 2" about Mexican broads, or "Slanted Slits take on Big Ol' Dicks" for Asian chicks. It's a double standard. If you don't like what she said, don't watch her movies. But be sure and take note of every other racial stereotype that gets played out without anybody batting an eye (but squints 'em tight) while jacking off.

And just for clarity, I usually watch my porn on mute anyways so my wife doesn't wake up.

Monday, November 19, 2007

Why didn't I get to experience it?



Wandering the wonderful world of Wikipedia (say that 3 times fast) I ran across a list of now defunct amusement parks. I had actually been to 4 of them, but I was crushed when I realized that the most interesting one I had never made it to, nor ever will. No shit, that picture above is a waterslide with a loop in it. WTF!!!




Folks, if any of you reading this have ever gone to Action Park in New Jersey (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Action_Park), please tell me your stories of gruesome injuries on poorly designed rides combined with excessive alcohol consumption. All the parks I've ever been too were fun, but never at the great human comedy of others being mamed, injured or killed.




After reading this article about Action Park, all I could picture in my head was a real life version of Itchy and Scratchy park from the Simpsons. Because of this I feel it's my god given duty to share this incredible find with the world and insist that some looney, Asian billionaire rebuild this park in an unregulated third world country. Please, hear this cry, and find me tiny Asian billionaire and fulfill what you were put here to do --- Rebuild "Traction Park".

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

He's back folks... and with a story.

So after a little hiatus from the ever popular world wide web, I have returned to spread joy to the masses.

My brother told me that he wanted to go to San Jose from where he was staying in Tracy (about 60 miles), the problem was that he doesn't have a car or a drivers license. He had been looking for somebody to give him a ride, but was coming up short. Then an almost miracle coincedence happened.

Our cousin Mark pulled up in front of his house in a little white car and yells out, "hey cousin, I'm going to San Jo, you wanna go?" My brother hopped in immediately and they started driving. My cousin Mark is not a role model, so kids don't do what's told here. My brother looks over at Mark, who's throwing back little bottles of whiskey like you find at the liquor store, and Mark looks back at him and says, "oh, just to let you know, I don't have any brakes." My brothers eyes got huge and as he opens his mouth to talk, Mark tells him, "but don't worry, I've got an E Brake. I call it thrill riding." They went thrill riding right over the Altamont Pass, which happens to be a 6% grade downhill on one side of it. When they get over the pass, Mark pulls into a Safeway parking lot in Pleasanton, stops the car, and jumps out. He leans into the window and tells my brother, "I don't have any plates either, so keep an eye out for me cousin." He then runs to a car parked a couple of spots down and rips off the license plate, and proceeds to slap it onto his piece of shit car.

My brother has explained that he's never catching a ride with Mark again.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

no real internet sucks

3 weeks now. I can't hear new music, god knows what e-mails i've missed, and worse yet, no new porn. I'm tired of thinking of new smut in my mind, i just want to watch and tug my root, i don't want an extra step, i.e. "thinking". fuck it

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

it's been 1 year

well, it's been one year today that I was released from active duty and I still miss it. I just want to say thanks to my family and friends that have helped me deal with what I feel is one of the biggest losses I've ever dealt with. Thank you all.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

best story to go with the accident

So my brother had just woken up from surgery and was told that he was lucky because the propeller blade had missed his femoral artery by about 1/8th of an inch, and had missed all his major internal organs that had spilled out of his belly from the ghetto cesarian by about the same amount.

There were probably 10 people in the room, including friends, family, and his church pastor, when another doctor came in and told everyone to make way, and clear some space. My brother had the neck collar on still, so he could only move his head left and right, but couldn't look down to see everybody standing at the foot of the bed. Most of the visitors just moved to the edges of the room, but didn't leave. Thinking most everybody had left except for his friend that was standing to the left of his head, my brother let out a sigh of relief, looked right at his friend, and said in regular conversational tone (not a whisper) ---- "Dude, thank god I still have my dick".

A few people laughed under their breath, and my brother looked at his friend again and said, "They're not gone are they?"

Friday, September 7, 2007

so here they are, the reason I was gone to Sac




OK, so my brother got in a horrible boating accident on the Sacramento river down by Old Sacramento. His shorts got caught in a propeller and he was pulled under the water, partially drowned, and got chopped up at the same time. His stomach was cut open and his intestines had spilled out, but amazingly, none of his internal organs were hurt, he basically ended up with a ghetto syle ceserian section, and the docs were able to put him back together. Hell of a situation right there. So here are some pics from my quick emergency visit back home.




and here's a couple of family pics as well:



Thursday, September 6, 2007

I'm not dead but my internet is

i've been back home in CA for a family emergency and when i got home my internet was turned off so i'm typing on the wii. pretty fuckin ghetto

Thursday, August 23, 2007

some life photos to celebrate post number 100

My brother, myself, my cousin.


The Aquino brothers.
Jessica pinning on Beto's badge


patrick and I in a motivational poster.


The birthplace of Abraham in Iraq - 2003



my mother and her mother - 2005



my good buddy pat.

me and beto at spring training - 2007


Our Grandfather - 2005


Jessica, Myself, Cousin Jay, Lerian - Xmas 2005

Sitting in a restaurant in Baltimore before deployment with Kit, Bake, and Smokey Joe. - 2003

Re-enlisting with Sgt Skipper, Montes is Flag Bearer. - 2001

Jay and Lerian - 2006


Marcus, Henry, my two boys, me, and Krista - Xmas 2005

Wife and I - 2007

Iraq - November 2003

Opie and Nicole at their wedding - 2007

Jessica and myself - New Years 05/06



The Chad and myself - 2005


Jessie and Vivian - 2007


Me in my blues - 2006



This is way back in 1998 in Bahrain.


Here's my brother with lots of weed in a mayo jar. He likes smoking weed. circa 2005




Me and the in law way Junior back around 1997

Junior and I 2006.

What a Surprise

Last night I was busily entertaining myself with the Nintendo Wii that my nephew bought and brought home. My arms and shoulders hurt from hours of Tennis, golf, bowling, and baseball. The night of Wii was stopped short when my door bell rang at about 9 p.m.


I opened the door, and was shocked to see the person standing there. It was my little buddy Tobin. Tobin had been in Korea for the past year and is on his way to Spangdalehm Germany for his next duty station. He actually came to town just to pick up his car out of storage and have it shipped overseas. He told me that he'd heard I was medically retired and since he was in town, he wanted to visit. That was awesome, so I had to buy beer and get fucked up with my little homie.


Here'e the thing about Tobin, he has a great deadpan humor, and a positive outlook on damn near everything in life......... and he has one hell of a stutter. It's his F's for the most part. When he's drinking it almost disappears, but I know he struggles during the day with it. But once again, he's so damned positive that he can have fun with the impediment.


I remember right before one deployment he and I were looking at our training schedule for the Basic Combat Convoy Course in Texas. He was looking at week 3 when he stops and says, "Sergeant Aquino, do you see wwwhhheeeek 3?" I looked and said, "yeah, why?" Tobins reply, "It's communications, I'm f-f-f-f-f-f-f-ucked."


Then when we were actually in Texas, he was my "battle buddy". Well, we were doing Pre Combat Checks on equipment and he had forgotten something in his billet, that ='s bad things. So we had to run a mile plus back to his billet, then run it back, all in full gear which included body armor and ruck sack. Then when we got back, we started getting our asses handed to us by our platoon sergeant. Our platoon sergeant stops for a second and looks at Tobin and asks, "So what's your fucking excuse?" Tobin just looks at him and goes, "uuuhhhh, uuuhhhh". I jumped in and started to explain that he had forgotten the one piece of equipment and that we double timed back to make formation in time. The platoon sergeant tells me to shut up because he didn't ask me, and then asks Tobin, "Why don't you just answer the question, is it that hard?" Tobins answer, "Because I-I-I-I hhhave aaaaaa speech impediment." There were no more questions after that.

Still one of the best people I've ever met. Air Force Vehicle Operators are the greatest.


I miss my friends.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

very creepy, disturbing children's cartoon, banned from TV

Here's another really weird one.

My God Given Right

Yup, I said God, and if you don't like it then just shut your hole and stop reading. You see, I believe that the greatest right we have is freedom of speech. So, I should be free to say God when I want, I should be able to say "Merry Christmas", and "Happy Easter". I don't think that our society should be hell bent on making everything politically correct to the extreme that it has. In the majority of schools now a days you must say "Happy Holidays" to denote the christmas season. What the fuck? 90% of the American public is celebrating Christmas, and if somebody doesn't celebrate Christmas then they can say "Kwanzaa" or "Channukah". But we know what's going on, somebody in the world was offended by Christmas and didn't want their children exposed to it. Well, what if I'm offended at your atheist views on holidays? Can I have your kid expelled for it? Maybe I think that your views are un-doing the work I've done with my child, and that it's wrong for you to think the way you do.

But I won't, because I think everybody has the right to say what they please when they become an adult.

Do I think my kids should go around swearing? Hell no, because they're children and they don't have that right in my house. But when they're 18 and out of the house, they can say anything that they want.

Which takes me to my next gripe about free speech infringement. The firing of on air personalities for the things that they say. Imus got fired, JV and Elvis of the Doghouse got fired, and Anthony and Opie got fired. That's a load of bullshit. These people were hired by radio stations to express their opinions, and shock people, whether the public finds it right or wrong. They have drawn listeners and advertising dollars for the shows that they put on. But the moment somebody says "I'm offended" they get the chop and are villified as commiting some sort of treason. Where the hell were these people during the months, or possibly even years, before the offensive term was used. Probably listening and laughing at what was said about somebody else. I guess free speech is fine as long as it doesn't hurt anybody's feelings.

I put my ideas, feelings, and expressions here. It's away from public scrutiny for the most part and people that don't want to hear what I am saying need not read what I write. The same can be done with any other media. If you don't like the things being said, turn the dial - don't watch that movie - don't watch that particular TV show, but do not use somebody's ideas as a scapegoat to unleash your anger.

I guess I can give this little example here. There was a young man that I was talking to in an airport once. I was still active duty military, but I was in civilian clothes. The conversation turned toward the "war on terror". He said "What do you think of it?" I told him that I don't have any good feelings toward it, but I'll do the job I was assigned to do. His face twisted up and he asked if I was in the military. I told him I was. He started on a rant about how I was a mindless robot and that everything I did will only result in hurting innocent people, and that only stupid people ever join the service. I let him go on and when he was done, I argued my point. I explained that I had joined for my own reasons, not the same ones as everybody else, but my own that he had no idea what they were. I explained that I took pride in the job that I do, no matter where it is or what it is. And when I finished I also took the time to tell this young man that even though his ideas irritated me, that it was his right to have them, and that when it comes down to it, my job was to protect that right.

Freedom of speech is our right. I don't believe in the Bill O'Reilly's ideas nor do I like the NAACP, or LULAC's stances on issues most of the time, but I do support the fact that these organizations have a right to express themselves vocally . What I don't like is these same organizations using that right to infringe on the rights of others. Just because an organization or individual says something is wrong doesn't mean that it is to everybody, and vice versa. Our country needs to live up to the freedoms that have been guaranteed.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

48 short hours ago.......

I was in the emergency room. As stated before, I have stomach issues. On this night, my stomach lurched really hard, and pain shot through my abdomen. I went to the bathroom --- but I didn't poop. I just bled. Horrible, horrible blood. And then I got woozy.


My neighbor, who happens to be a nurse, came over to check on me and told me I had to go to the E.R. right away because she said I might have something called "c-diff" (whatever the hell that is). So I did.


I got there, head still spinning from that light headed feeling of blood loss. And then it became interesting.


The nurse at the window checked me in and said I'd have a bed soon. Then I felt the dookie urge. She immediately told me to use the office rest room so that the doctor could look at the mess I leave in the bowl.


After I shot poop and blood out of my asshole for a second time, I had a bed waiting. I sat with all the good monitoring equipment strapped to me for about an hour. Then the doctor shows up.


I gave him the same answers I've always given the docs in the past, and he agreed that I probably have IBS and not some death causing disease. Then he said even though I've been scoped and prodded in the past, that he'd have to do a rectal exam to check for anything, including hemmorhoids.


My reply to that was, "I should think that there's a hemmorhoid now after shitting blood for the last two hours. I really don't think you have to ass rape me." But he insisted.


So there I am rolled over on one side, holding on for that horrible feeling of violation. I feel his hands spread my buttcheeks and I try my best not to involuntarily clench up, and then I hear it.


"Whoah, that's a huge hemmorhoid!!! Well, I guess I won't put my finger in your butt after all."


I wish that I had exploded with shit and blood at that very moment.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

I remember Greg

I've had a few friends named Greg. And they've all been pretty good folks. But I'll never forget one Greg in particular. He wasn't my friend, but an airman that served under me.

This fella was odd to say the least. He used to drive around playing talk radio at full blast while bobbing his head. At the club, he made it a point to try and hook up with the largest female there. His theory was that he'd get action no matter what because he didn't hold high standards.

One morning (since I was the NCO in charge for the beginning of the duty day) Greg was assigned to show up at 0500 along with me. I have always been a stickler for punctuality. I don't like anybody being late, and habitual tardiness drives me up the wall. Well, at 0520 he still wasn't there and I was about to come unglued when he walks through the door. Greg had never been late before, so I figured I'd let him have one shot at giving me a good excuse.

I asked what was going on that he was arriving 20 minutes late. He looked at me and asked, "Can I tell you the honest truth?" I told him to go ahead and his response was, "I was masturbating, I didn't think it would take that long, but do you ever start and say to yourself 'I just have to finish or it's going to bother me all day'".

It was the best excuse ever.

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Who to hang out with?

I've been thinking this over and over in my head. It seems like the masses of people like to ask each other this on going question, "if you could hang out with somebody, who would it be?" Everyone seems to want to hang out with some big star, athlete, or musician.

Why?

I believe that the types of people listed above are the paid circus monkeys of this society. They are there to entertain us. As long as my favorite group is making good music, I'm happy. If movies are being made that are entertaining, then I'm fine. Of course I'll cheer for Barry whenever he's at the plate, he's a Giant, and that's my team. But I don't want to personally know them.

Here's my reason. They're probably assholes. If you've supported these famous folks your whole life and then you meet them, what if they let you down. I don't know about you, but that would fucking crush me. Everybody says Barry Bonds is a dick, fine, I don't want to meet him and kick it with him, I just want him to keep hitting home runs for my amusement.

My brother watched a DVD of Andre Nickatina (one of our favorite rappers) and directly afterwards he couldn't bring himself to listen to one of his cd's for months.

Why?

Because he sounded like a fucking idiot on that DVD. It destroyed my brothers concept of who this dude was. Where he's very understandable in his music and witty with his ryhmes, he sounded functionally retarted on video when just talking. The same thing happened for me when I watched a Brotha Lynch Hung DVD, luckily Lynch had enough sense to have a saving grace with a shot of a woman with huge titties going topless.

I don't like everybody I meet, and very few people are that close to me that I'd want to hang out with them. With that said, I wouldn't want to hang with celebrity by choice.

I want to hang out with guys from my old Air Force unit. I want to kick it with my brother and my cousin. I want to hang with The Chad, and drink and smoke bud with him. I want to lay around and chill with my wife and family. I want to be around people I enjoy and who care about me, not some dude that makes millions more than me and doesn't know me from the next stalker looking to steal his baby and masturbate in his vegetable crisper.

Unless he wants to give me money. Until then, paid circus monkeys, ENTERTAIN ME!!!!

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

I want a parrot



My brother lives with some people that actually own a parrot. Apparently the parrot does not talk, but it does mimick the phone ringing and that pisses everybody off. This parrot also does not live in a cage, it justs lounges around the house shitting on whatever it wants.




I was talking to my brother on the phone a while back, and he said he was doing homework (he goes to college). I kept hearing a phone in the background and I told him I'd hold while he answered it. His reply -- "that's just that fucking bird". He went on to explain about the parrot, it's abilities (and inabilities) and pretty much how he hated it. He told me that it was walking around on the table he was doing his homework on, and knocking shit over.




Then I hear this.




"You little fucker!!!" "BAACAAAWW!!!"




I asked, "dude, what was that?"




He told me "It bit me so I punched it. I hate that fucking bird, you hear me bird, I hate you."


Needless to say, I now want a parrot. I want it to go places with me, sitting on my shoulder until we reach our destination at which time I will let him roam freely, being obnoxious and pissing random people off. I want him to do impressions of foghorns or that really annoying chick from "The Nanny", maybe even belch his ABC's. So cool. And if he ever pissed me off, well, it sounds like they can take a punch.

Friday, August 3, 2007

Guess who's got a hernia?

This guy right here does. I went in to the doctor so that he could check on my abdominal pains caused by my "angry poop disorder" and he discovered it.


So there I am on the table and he's pushing on my belly asking about if it's tender "here, here, what about here", and then all of a sudden he sticks his finger in my belly button and pushes pretty fuckin' hard.


I screamed from pain, and yelled "holy son of a bitch, what the hell did you do that for?" He looked directly at me and asks, "did you know you had a hernia?"


Huh?


Then he tells me, "do you see how in your naval there's some of it that seems to be pushing out? Well, that's an umbilical hernia. I just pushed it back in some, do you want me to push it in all the way?"


"Hell no, I don't want you pushing it in anymore. That God damn thing hurt." He explained that I could live with it with no problems if it stayed how it is right now, but if it ever got worse I should go in and have somebody shove there finger in my belly hole and make me scream.


I wonder if after I left he sniffed his finger?
not me pictured, but an idea of a minor umbilical hernia

Monday, July 30, 2007

Not sure why I feel the way I do

So many times I just zone out. I stare into space and just fill up with hate and anger. I really don't know why I break down, have those thoughts of hurting others, or even question the reason I'm here. I'm not going to kill myself, I find that greedy. But there are days that I think I could seriously cause damage to the first motherfucker that looks at me sideways. This isn't a 24/7 situation either, it comes in spurts, so random it could make my head spin. On the other hand, it could be because I forgot to take my medicine. I know the problems I have upstairs. People know how I am, for real. I'm a pretty laid back dude. I try not to let things get under my skin, but that's not the real problem. The issue is in the background, out of the public eye. It's what runs through my head when I'm not occupied. It's the fact that I haven't had a good dream since November of 2003 or felt rested since September of 2002. Honestly, I find humor in so many off the wall subjects, but it's not always truly funny, sometimes it's just sick. I'm not bad, I'm not cruel, and I'm sure as hell not evil. But at times I feel lost, hurt, sad, and distant.

On those days..... don't fuck with me.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

I don't plan on walking over hot coals

My oldest son was trying to wash dishes today. The key word is "trying". He, of course, shattered a glass all over the kitchen floor. Being super dad as I am, I rushed over to the kitchen cleared out the kids and proceeded to show both of my boys what not to do with glass on the floor.

1. I had no shoes or socks.
2. I tried to sweep everything up with no lights on.
3. Even after stepping all over glass and cutting my feet to hell, I still didn't go put on shoes.

My feet now look like the bottoms of Kunta Kente's feet on roots. Word to the wise kiddies, if you have glass on the floor, protect your paws.






On a side note. I dookied at work the other day and had a photo finish. My stomach gurgled, my asshole puckered, and away I went, top speed down the hallway. I thank god nobody of importance was in the common areas because I'm sure I would of bowled right over them. I reached the toilet just in time, as I dropped trouser and barely started to hover over that cool porcelian seat I shotgun blasted a spray of demonic odor and feces all around the inside of that bowl. I worry that one day I won't be that lucky to make it and have to check out for the rest of the day with shit running down my leg.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Tramp Stamps and The Obese




Two things that shouldn't mix in any way, shape, or form. You are on the larger side of the human build, so don't draw attention to your back fat by placing a huge cumshot target near the base of your spine where you're T-shirt (which by the way, is too small for you) is riding up your back and exposing that juicy jiggle roll for all to see.
Also, just my own outlook on things here, don't wear a thong either, it sure as hell doesn't ad "sexiness" to your lovely posterior.